Fixorshub Blog

Aminu could simply not understand why his father chose to keep them in that place. Every time the sky seriously changed colour, they all knew what it meant – it was time to roll up the mats and the two mattresses in their one-room shanty, and place them atop the rickety, rough wood shelves. Then they would huddle together on the bench and wait out the rain or flood depending on the intensity of the downpour and if in the event of a flood, hope that the water level would not rise beyond their ankles. Then when the rain subsided, they would wait for the flood to recede, then pull out buckets, dust pans and small, flat plastic plates, the kind pepper sellers used to display their wares; and begin to bail water from inside their house into the compound.

They lived in a flood plain, in an abandoned, uncompleted house, whose owners knew to desert the project when it became clear that their endeavour there was a failure.

The original owners had gone far however, with what was supposed to be a single room boys’ quarter before a major flood drove them away from the site.

He had learnt, from overhearing his parents’ conversations that the particular flood that affected the construction had been one of the worst many in the area had seen. It had even pulled down another house in the vicinity and submerged a few cars.

Rahama and Maryam, his older sisters, had also said that the flood took a life – one of the labourers in the area who did not know how deep the water was and had ventured to wade through, only to be swept away. His body was found the next day, they said. Aminu looked up to his older sisters- they seemed to know so much and to do so much. They were like other mothers to him.

‘Do our parents know this?’ Aminu asked. Rahama responded that she was not sure, but that it was likely that they knew.

Aminu was mortified. It was unthinkable that they had ever moved to that place, let alone continued living there.

Aminu had been excited the first time he was asked to join in the water-bailing exercise, but once it had become routine, he had begun to detest the task.

He remembered where they used to live, a few years before, where he looked forward to the rain falling with him and his friend Ibrahim sailing paper boats on puddles along the footpaths as the rain poured. It was a discarded portakabin that had two rooms and a staircase that led to the flat top of the cabin. He remembered that staircase fondly. It was a favourite hide-and-go-seek spot for him and Ibrahim until they realised that that spot was too easy. They were too scared to climb up to the top of the container, so they had to look for somewhere else to hide.

There was a small jalopy parked by the gate leading into the compound where they would go. His younger siblings would cluelessly and gleefully dart into the run-down car and be found easily. The doors of the car were all gone except for the one by the owner’s corner of the car, as his older sister Rahama would call it.

Aminu liked sitting in the driver’s seat of the car and pretending to drive it. Holding the lowest part of the wheel, he would call out to his tiny ‘passengers’ and tell them they were driving to London. He would then make engine noises as best as he could. His friend had once wanted to do the noise instead of Aminu but Aminu held his ground and said only the person who was driving was allowed to make the sound by himself.

When it came to Ibrahim’s turn to drive, Ibrahim would say they were driving to Abuja and then make his own engine sound.

His mum had kept a small garden nearby where she planted tomatoes and vegetables. They also kept a dwarf goat that always seemed to be pregnant and growing horizontally and not vertically. It had been Rahama’s job to sweep the goat’s droppings but Maryam eventually joined in the daily chore.

He missed life in that cabin and the compound so much!

Aminu then had no care in the world. He and Ibrahim would make pots from the clay in the back and attempt to sell them. Their own pots never quite looked like the pots they saw at the florists by the roadside, but they were proud of them.

At the time, he did not understand why they were leaving, as he was too young, but he remembered the excitement he got from packing items and being given the small cloth sack that held his and his younger siblings’ clothes, to carry. Imani and Faris were simply toddling about the place and picking every small object in sight, en-route putting them into their mouths. Zainab was just about 6 months old at the time and was strapped to their mother’s back.

Aminu later grew to understand that the lot where they stayed had been sold to a developer and was about to be built-up. This was why they had to leave.

He made up his mind to ask his mother once she was done with breastfeeding his newest sibling- the four week-old Aabida, who came seven years after Zainab. His mother’s conception years after Zainab’s birth had shocked Aminu. He had thought that his parents were done with giving him and his sisters siblings, something that had happened in swift succession – Zainab was born two years after their brother Faris, who was born two-and-a-half years after Imani, who came two years and two months after Aminu.

He had learned not to bother his mother while she was breastfeeding. She had once said that disturbing her could amount to disturbing the baby and he did not want that. So he would waituntil she was done and had burped the baby. He loved his siblings very much, although he felt they were a little too many for such a small house.

It was difficult to understand why they were all crammed in this house. Time and again, he would drift back to what life was like in the old house, a constant reverie that seemed to make his present surroundings more unbearable.

Once his mum made to go to the stove at the backyard after burping the baby and placing her on the mattress, Aminu got up to speak with her.

He had always loved his mother to bits – she was such a hard working woman who plaited girls’ hair and sold local candy for a living.

‘Mama, can I see you?’ he asked.

‘Sure!’ she replied.

He looked serious and she was immediately worried. He hardly ever approached her this way.

‘What’s going on?’ She asked.

‘Is everything okay?’

‘There’s no problem. All is well’, he answered.

‘You look so serious- should I be worried?’

‘Not at all, Mama. I just have a question that I would like you to answer. Mama, why do we live here? I do not like this place’.

‘This is what your father and I can afford’, she said.

‘You know we do not even pay anything here. Things will get better, but we have to manage this for now. As soon as we get money and can find another place, we will move’.

He felt really disillusioned but could not say what was on his mind. He was increasingly unhappy with their situation – a single room filled with children and constantly grappling with flooding and underground seepage.

This was all that was on his mind day and night, at school and at play.

He decided it was time to speak with his dad and think of a way forward.

Aminu’s father was a site worker. He did daily manual labour at building sites in the vicinity. Aminu had once accompanied him to a site to earn some money a year ago, but his father had since stopped him from coming along, as he said the State Government had enforced the law proscribing child labour. He had given the money he earned from that job to his mother to buy food for the house and she had been so proud of him!

He could not wait to grow old enough to get a job and start earning money. He would first get them a decent place to live and then buy his mother loads and loads of abayas, and his sisters, dresses, and then Faris, a gadget. Rahama had helped a lot with the upkeep at home when shebegan to work at the fast food restaurant but her earnings were not enough to get them a new place.

He decided to go see his dad and have a talk with him.That night, with his heart in his mouth, he began…

‘Papa, why did you have so many of us?’ His father was stunned.‘

Aminu’, he said ‘what would make you ask that kind of question?’ Don’t you know that it’s up to God to give us as many as He wants?’ He sounded a bit angry.

.‘I’m sorry Papa, it’s just that I see how hard you and mama and now Rahama work, yet we’re not able to live comfortably because we just don’t have enough. I wish we could move out of this house. I don’t like it here!’With that, Aminu became emotional but he fought the tears and waited for his father’s response.

Surprisingly, his usually stoic dad winced and became teary. With a sweep of his right hand, he drew Aminu close and whispered to him

‘It will get better. You’ll see. I promise it will’

.‘Will you have more children? Will Aabida have younger ones? Will there be more than seven of us children?’ It was not comfortable for Aminu to continue along this line of questioning, but he felt he had to do what had to be done. He had to push the awkward feeling aside and search his father’s mind on this matter.

The look on His father’s face was as though he was embarrassed. It took a minute for him to respond, but he said

‘No, we won’t have more babies. Aabida will not have any younger ones. Thank you my son. You spoke to me like a grown up and I must say that I am impressed.’

Aminu was inspired to say more.

‘Papa, he said, I wish I could help with the upkeep of the family’

‘When you’re older’, his father said.

‘Right now, I need you to face your books, do well in school and get an education. I was not that lucky to go to school but I know it is important for you and your siblings because the world has changed from when I was your age. With an education, you will be respected and relevant; and you will have more choices in life than your mother and I had. Let me, your mother and your sister do the earning for now. The time will come, for you to join in’.

Aminu had just one more thing to say.

‘Papa, I have something I would like you to know. I have been thinking about our situation for a long time now and I think I have found a way. Come with me Papa’.

His father followed him as he led the way to a path behind their house, to an un-trod and unoccupied spot in the area and there he showed him a small farm that he had been tending for months. On it grew sorghum and soybeans, plants that did well in flooded zones, ready for harvest.

His father could not believe his eyes!‘You are coming of age my son. You have done well! I am so proud of you!’

Written by -Yetunde Adepeju Abatan

FixorsHub is a premier platform dedicated to connecting skilled workers and handy people with individuals and businesses in need of reliable, high-quality services. Founded with a vision to bridge the gap between service providers and customers, FixorsHub ensures that every job is handled by experienced professionals who meet our rigorous standards. Whether you are a fashion designer, air conditioning technician, cleaner, makeup artist, photographer, CCTV technician, or in any other field, FixorsHub is the innovative market where you can monetize your skills and boost your income.

Whether you are a solar and inverter technician, event planner, mechanic, rewire, plumber, carpenter, graphic designer, digital marketer, or whatnot, FixorsHub is the innovative shop for you to turn your skills into money and smile to the banks. Registration is completely free — simply sign up at www.fixorshub.com to kickstart your journey as a FixorsHub Partner Service Provider.”